


From A Hospital Bed

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor Trevor, having been injured due to his work, is in hospital recovering following an operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From A Hospital Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for thessbakerstreet as part of the Viclock exchange on Tumblr

When Victor finally woke up, the first thing he heard was Sherlock and Mycroft arguing, followed by the sound of someone, Sherlock from the footsteps, leaving in a hurry. Victor tried to make sense of the snippet of conversation he had caught, but his mind was too heavy and he slept again.

Later, when he woke again, he could hear his case notes being discussed quietly. A doctor – not his own doctor, presumably John Watson, talking to a nurse. No, not a nurse, Mary, his wife. So Sherlock hadn’t returned. Victor thought he ought to attract their attention, to show that he was awake. But the idea of moving required too much effort, so he decided not to bother.

When he woke for a third time, Victor realised it was considerably later; the natural light that had flooded the room had been replaced with artificial light. He turned his head and groaned.

A warm voice said “Nice to have you back with us. Do you want me to call a nurse?”

“No,” he replied. “I shall be okay for now. It’s nice to be back and see you again, Greg. How are you?”

“Considerably better than you at the moment, mate,” Greg Lestrade replied.

Hesitantly he asked, “Sherlock, um ...”

“Gone the long way round to get us some coffee.”

“Driving you nuts with his fidgeting?”

“Correct!”

He manoeuvred himself into slightly more of an upright position, reasoning that if there was any problem Greg would tell him. Apart from a significant amount of bruising, which he deduced from the way it felt as if his whole body was aching, he could see his right arm was pinned and his fingers were taped together. Could be worse. Tentatively he wiggled his toes, flexed his ankles and then moved his knees towards his body.

He caught sight of Greg watching him anxiously. “It’s okay. Just checking on how much damage I’ve sustained.”

The door to his hospital room opened and Sherlock backed in carrying two paper cups of coffee.

“You’re awake!” For once it was Sherlock stating the obvious.

Greg grabbed the cups before Sherlock dropped them. “I’ll leave you two together for a bit,” Greg said. “I’ve put your coffee on the side, Sherlock.”

Sherlock crossed the room and kissed Victor’s forehead, then his eyes and finally his mouth. As he stood back up Victor could see the tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Bee, there was no need to worry,” Victor said. “I promised you I’d be back.”

“I wasn’t worried. It’s just that Mycroft refused to tell me what had happened; only that you’d been hurt and had had to be flown back. And then he told me that there was no reason why I had to be here.”

“So you left?”

“Yes, for a reason. Wait, you know I left?”

“I woke very briefly to hear the two of you arguing.”

“That was Mycroft’s fault.”

“You were the louder one.”

Sherlock smiled at him and he could see the apology in his eyes.

“So, if Mycroft didn’t drive you away, why did you leave?” Victor asked.

Sherlock knelt down, bringing himself to Victor’s level.

“I wanted to prove to him that there was every reason for me to be with you.”

Victor could see Sherlock feeling in his coat pocket before he produced a small box.

“Victor Trevor, will you marry me?”

“My Bee, of course I will.”

Sherlock took two rings out of the box and slipped one onto Victor’s finger. The second he passed to Victor, who reciprocated slightly awkwardly, since he had to use his left hand to do so.

They sat holding hands until there was a quiet knock on the door and Greg came in.

“I’ve just had a text from your brother to say he’s on his way,” Greg said. “I thought I ought to warn you.”

“Not even my brother can upset me now,” Sherlock replied.

“Oh, why?”

Victor lifted their hands in the air to show off the rings.

Greg grinned. “Congratulations. I’m delighted for the pair of you.”

It wasn’t long before Mycroft swept imperiously into the room. “Now that you have started to recover from the operation Mr Trevor I have made arrangements for you to be transferred to suitable accommodation for your recuperation prior to being reassigned.”

“Not so fast, Mycroft,” Sherlock interrupted.

“What is it, brother mine?”

“Victor will be coming home with me.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“We’re getting married.”

“What? You can’t!”

“Why? Do you think Victor not suitable for me?”

“I don’t want to send a married man on this new assignment.”

“Then you’ll have to send someone else.”

Mycroft stormed out of the room, muttering about “Recovering agent, perfect cover, not part of my plan.”

Greg laughed. “That went about as well as could be expected. I’ll leave you two to your wedding planning for now. Phone me when the hospital is ready to discharge you, Victor, and I’ll come and pick you up.”

“Thanks, Greg. Much appreciated,” Victor said.

Victor and Sherlock sat together for a while longer, until the nurse came in to examine Victor. He bore with all her questions and submitted to the standard observations, denying that he was in any pain. He could tell that she didn’t believe him and therefore wasn’t surprised when she gave him some painkillers anyway. Once she was satisfied that all was as it should be, she told Victor that he should be able to leave in the morning, so long as he wasn’t on his own.

Sherlock came back in and Victor greeted him with “They’re letting me out tomorrow. I was able to confirm that my fiancé,” the word appealed so he repeated it, “my fiancé would be at home for me.”

They continued to talk, but Victor contributed less and less to the conversation, until finally he said, “Bee, I’m sorry, but I really do need to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay.”

He felt Sherlock’s kiss, but was asleep before he’d left the room.


End file.
